


One tender evening

by maevesdarling



Category: Doctor Faustus - Christopher Marlowe, Faust - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Demon/Human Relationships, Demons Are Assholes, Developing Relationship, Future Character Death, Getting Together, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Relationships, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Not Canon Compliant, Sharing a Bed, Short One Shot, Slice of Life, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22448530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevesdarling/pseuds/maevesdarling
Summary: Mephistopheles and Faustus share a bed...(...) At night, while his master is asleep, Mephistopheles sits in a chair across from him. Every twitch of his muscles, every sigh and sleepy mumble, he sits and watches in interested, the book in his hands long forgotten.(...)
Relationships: John Faustus/Mephistopheles
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	One tender evening

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: maevesdarling
> 
> I've been non stop thinking about these two for the past three months. Please read them as whichever version you like best, I imagined this as Marlowe's Faustus and Mephistopheles (the globe version) but if you like Goethe's version more you're free to interpret this however you please.

Hell is not pleasant. It's hot and smells of death and desperation, the air is filled with the screams of hundreds of tortured souls at all times. It's dark and a strange glowing fills the air, casting everything in a red light.

He dreads the day they will cast his master away. Shackle him and carry him off into the darkness. 

They will torture him, poke him, cut him and taunt him for all eternity until there's nothing left of him, only an empty hull, a fragment of the person he used to be.

At night, while his master is asleep, Mephistopheles sits in a chair across from him. Every twitch of his muscles, every sigh and sleepy mumble, he sits and watches in interested, the book in his hands long forgotten.

"Do demons sleep?" Faustus asks him one evening while they're sitting together in the doctors study. His hands are covered in ink as he finishes writing some papers, the small candle casting their shadows against the opposite wall. Mephistopheles looks at him, blinks and then chuckles.

"Why should we?"

"So you don't-"

"No."

"Never?"

He shakes his head. It's not the full truth of course. He used to be able to sleep. When he was still... 

He used to sleep in a different life. Napping in the warm sunlight, his wings spread out to their full size. Sleeping peacefully in the arms of his brothers and sisters, feeling embraced by their warmth.

But he hasn't been able to sleep in centuries. It's harder to nap when there is no sunlight to warm you. His wings, black and unkempt, hurt when he tries to move them. His brothers and sisters are gone, the demons who fell with him are wild creatures, they're vulgar and scream and trample and would laugh at him would he ask them for a simple embrace.

"So you've never slept?" The doctor pushes on and Mephistopheles rolls his eyes.

"I didn't said that." He simply says hoping the conversation is finished. Faustus worries his bottom lip with his teeth, nods and goes back to writing.

The study falls into a comfortable silence, the only sound that could be heard was the scratching of the doctors feather against the paper.

After what feels like an hour, the man yawns once, twice, then puts the feather down to stretch. "Well." He says as he gets up from his chair and takes the candle into his hand to light up the way to his bedroom. "If you'd excuse me, my dear, it's late and I am tired."

Mephistopheles nods, he continues to sit in the darkness for some time, reading through a book he found underneath all the papers stacked up on the doctors desk, until he thinks the doctor has gone to sleep and follows him dutifully.

The room is dark when he enters, the candle has been blown out and the curtains drawn. He spots his master's sleeping form on the bed, nestled beneath the covers, allows himself to smile and sits down in his chair.

"Do you need a blanket?" 

Mephistopheles doesn't startle when he hears his master's sleepy voice. He shakes his head even though the human won't be able to see it in the darkness. "No, I don't feel the cold."

Faustus makes a small 'mphf' sound in the back of his throat. A moment passes.

"Would you like to join me in bed, my dear? It is awfully cold tonight and I could do with a warm body next to mine."

Warm is an understatement. Mephistopheles skin is almost feverish hot to the touch. The demon doesn't move, unsure of what to do. He doesn't want to come off as weak. If the other demons could see him, cuddling up to a human-

But then again is he supposed to grant all of his master's wishes. "I-" He moves to get up, stops himself and hovers in the air. Faustus is smiling warmly at him, holding the blanket open for him to slip under. 

Damn the others, he thinks and slips next to the doctor, his arms slung around the man's waist. It's warm and comfortable, something Mephistopheles hasn't felt in a long time. The touch to his master's skin is painless to both of them. If anything it sends a warm shiver through his body. He's torn between getting up and bringing some distance between them, too afraid of what Hell might think of him, and burying his nose in the familiar dark hair to inhale the doctors scent of ink, old books and human. 

After a while he can feel his master's breathing evening out. His body becomes limp in his arms, as he drifts deeper and deeper into sleep. 

Mephistopheles stares in bewilderment. He allows himself to press a soft kiss to his master's forehead, his dark hair tickling his skin. Then he sinks deeper into the cushions and closes his eyes.

He hasn't slept in centuries, too afraid of what might happen while he was asleep, but tonight, in his humans arms, Mephistopheles feels himself drifting further and further down, until there's nothing left to be afraid off.


End file.
